a king walks among us
It is the doe's scream that draws El Rey to the carnage. It's typical, of course, that even he could not enjoy a life-threatening stroll without witnessing a murder, even of another species. He keeps to the shadows still, creeping through the undergrowth and surveying the scene from between bushes. A fawn rockets past him and with the flick of a sword, the swinging doe is silenced. A dead stag lay on the ground. It is a gruesome scene, and he is stirred only by its poetic value. El Rey has always written about nature; he spent so much of his life locked away, that it is more beautiful to him than it may be to the man who has lived his life freely. This stark contrast between that which he finds beautiful and that which he is made to do...it sends a chill down his spine. Here are the two things together, coexisting in the way that wanton violence and beauty cannot coexist. They are happening at the same time, and he is here to see it.
It takes him a long time before he even registers the poacher - he does not even know that they are poaching, truly, how much of any law has he retained? - and when he does, he relishes the way sanguine blood marks the silver as a hunter's coat. Dirty money.
They work with the fluidity of someone who has butchered such creatures many, many times. Rey is still in awe of the Elderdeer, having never seen one, and briefly he thinks on the fawn, alone and orphaned, fated to die.
He pokes his head out of the brush and slowly, slowly, reveals himself. He does not come toward the hunter. He stands, still, and says, "You are quite skilled in your work."
@
”in blood the blade, to its golden hilt, I’ll drown,“
I pledge you now, to death they all are bound,
